& so it is written,
Why more production when Earth's in decline?
We are selfish and feel entitled to add to the world's clutter. It is our right to do exactly what we love, and to do it as well as we please. More books and magazines, more spent space on hard drives, more art, more clothing—and may enough never be enough. Entitled and carefree, we hope at least to make friends. Failing even this, we will continue with even more fervor.
Because: what else to do with our lives?
In the declining years of that longest of wars, the West had lost sight of art and other mediums which had brought it through its darkest hours. Everything was a remix. Publishing slipped on a downward spiral. Corporate publishing was (thankfully) on its way out. We dove in nonetheless, giving this venture our all. Caffeinated nights and tedious days we spent beautifying the mental landscape of a society raped by CNN and live-action depression. At the time, it seemed natural. Our motives weren't questioned, neither among ourselves nor from outside.
Then we started investing our food money.